


Measured Silence

by meteoropera



Category: Final Fantasy Type-0
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meteoropera/pseuds/meteoropera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The opportunity of a lifetime was not what she'd imagined it to be. Oriense was hell on what passed off as Earth. She was from the real world where he did not exist. He was a soldier who wouldn't grieve for anyone but Miwa. </p><p>Miwa, Glenn and gang are actually part of Kurasame's classmates in his official back story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measured Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend who wanted her character to be with Kurasame. So I guess this is a gift fic of some sort. 
> 
> The only warning I have is that it's totally Mary Sue-ish at some point.

**\- The girl who fell from the sky -**

The first time he had his sights on the girl before him, she was the color of winter and death was circling around her shoulder like crows, waiting for it's prey to succumb to Etro's gate before before the feasting could take place.

She was just another conveniently misplaced casualty of war and Kurasame Susaya was the soldier, a defendant and judge of the battlefield. She was just another pretty face. He kept reminding himself as he shouldered her lithe form over to the make shift medical wing that she was not her.

 

**xXx**

_The era was a thin line between 600 and 800-_

_It mattered not. Kurasame Susaya's fluttered open from a sudden slumber. The world around him was silent despite the display of ruins and chaos washing over his hazy vision._

_His arm was bent backwards in an impossible position. He had no idea if the muscle was disconnected from his nerves._

_A shadow loomed over him._

_Miwa._

_His leader, his object of desire, the woman who had given him a reason to live._

_Her lips moved. She was dying and like him, she was waiting for her turn in line for an audience with Etro._

_"Death." Miwa mouthed out. "Death cannot claim you. You must live. The king needs to know of the traitor who hid under the same crimson flag."_

_The pain that shot through his hastily repaired nerves was nothing compared to the pain his heart felt when Miwa crumbled before him like a lifeless doll. Death. She spoke of the ancient pulsian word for Death but the exact term slipped his mind. Death was haunting them all along. Glenn was the Reaper. The traitor. That bastard..._

_16 year old Kurasame Susaya delivered the news of treachery over to the King back at Rubrum without fail._

**xXx**

"You're awake." The instructor of Class Zero noted as the girl before him flailed, trying to free herself from an array of wires and tubes.

The girl gave him a pointed look. Her accent weren't of pulsian origins. It took the team of white mages several minutes before they can reach a certain level of understanding.

Miwa had that same accent. As the icy blade of death gazed over the woman fighting against Kazusa's needle, he realized that Miwa had the same phobia of needles as well.

But her name wasn't Miwa. Miwa was dead. Cienna was not Miwa at all.

 

**xXx**

_Kazusa restrained the limp 16 year old. There was no need for someone to hold onto him but within the past 24 hours, the young man had already attempted to take his own life after returning to the peristylium._

_He was the last of the elite knights left and everyone in the academy knew of his relationship with Miwa. Sweet, innocent little Mi-chan who was a year older then him._

_Kurasame didn't protest or move when the sleeping drug was injected into his left arm. He was too tired to fight against it._

_He was exhausted._

_Exhausted of living._

**xXx**

Fiction. That was what her concept of him was built upon.

The young girl was the same age as Miwa. No, she would've been the same age as Miwa had she still been alive.

Despite his instincts telling him to leave her be, Kurasame had insisted that on dragging her back to the Peristylium. His actions did not go unnoticed. The most feared ex-hero of the battlefield simply did not go around picking damsels out from the battlefield.

His actions merited himself an audience with the king himself.

 

Principal Khalia Chival VI gave a fleeting glance to the tiny little woman who was dolled up in the peristylium's standard frock before sweeping a questioning gaze at the icy blade of death.

The reasons he spoke of fell upon the girl's ears as nothing more but a beautiful poetry in a language that merely existed in her world.

 

"What did you tell him?" She asked when the meeting was adjourned.

 

"Nothing you should concern yourself with." His English was rough, coated with an accent resembling the Hungarian language. "What you should concern yourself with is how you will be living your life here from now on."

 

Cienna flinched. It was as if they viewed her as a burden and Kurasame did not even pause to deny that the girl was nothing but a nuisance he wanted to get rid of.

**xXx**

Her first few hours alone in the famed Peristylium of Suzaku was anything but pleasant. There was a language barrier. English was known as the 'common' language and it was hardly spoken by the students for it was the language of the peasants. An instructor had told her that even though their country was made up of poor people who had to cut their way through the pockets of the wealthy just to feed themselves with bread and water, once an individual was accepted into the Peristylium, they are no longer people of the common folk. They would be considered wealthy individuals who could afford the luxury of wearing velvet and gold and as such, the wealthy aristocrats must speak the language worthy of the upper crusts and the Common language was not one of them.

 

Lessons, texts, signboards and battle commands were issued in latin. Even their school song and national anthem was in full fledged latin.

 

"Latin...is a dead language in my world." Cienna said as she sat down on a stack of hay at the chocobo range.

 

The female instructor hummed in acknowledgement as they both ate. Kurasame had handed her the role of babysitting the strange young girl and Emina Hanaharu had suspected that it was due to her unrelenting patience and acceptance of strange new things (and people) did the icy blade of death entrusted the task to her.

 

Hanaharu didn't mind. She had fished the terrified girl out from the hallway. Introducing herself as the cadet commander who was in charge of overseeing the general well being of the Peristylium's soldiers, identified by the men and women who wore red cloaks instead of the school uniforms, she had immediately asked Cienna in fluent Common if she was hungry.

 

Emina decided to hold a tiny game of ice breaker at the most quietest place in the Peristylium; the chocobo range, over a spread of assorted foods. She had no idea what the girl ate back in her world or what kind of food would she like or dislike. So, she had brought in a bit of everything from their cafeteria.

 

It was there, amongst the giant winged creatures, did Emina began to teach the girl about the language, the Peristylium, Suzaku and the mysteries of Oriense

.

"But you are familiar with the Concordian language." Emina pushed a bowl of fruits to her.

 

"Japanese and Korean?" Cienna placed some rice into her mouth, only to feel a burning sensation dominate the roof of her mouth.

 

Emina had brought her cuisine from all the four nations and Concordia's cuisine held very strong similarities to a certain land back home.

 

"Japanese and Korean is what Concordian language is made of." Cienna explained, attempting not to flail at the fiery sensation in her mouth. "I don't think I can learn Latin in a day. Further more...how will I get back? What will I even do here?"

 

The chocolate haired woman tipped her head, seemingly deep in thoughts before replying slowly. "We'll figure it out. It's only been 6 hours since you've arrived here. Give it some time. We're all exhausted, you better get some rest. I'll show you to your room, ne?"

 

**xXx**

Kurasame Susaya stared at himself in the mirror. His pet Tonberry was asleep, all nestled up against his covers on his bed at a corner of his room.

It was only within the secured premises of his room did he dared to shrug his uniform and mask off. The 27 year old brushed a strand of damp hair away, willing himself not to get haunted by Miwa's ghost.

 

He thought that he had finally gotten over her death. He thought that if he continued to look at the nasty scar Glenn had given him, he would eventually conquer the memory.

Try as hard as he could, whenever he stared at his scars, the memory of the 1st battle of Judacea would haunt him as if it only took place the previous day. He remembered how he had planned to take Miwa out once the battle was over. The 1st battle of Judacea had taken place on her 18th birthday. No one ever dreamed that Glenn would betray them like that.

 

The nasty memory halted as soon as it came.

It dawned upon the Icy blade of death that the girl who fell from the sky...reminded him strongly of Miwa; leader of their famed elite force.

Fate was indeed cruel.

 

**xXx**

There were no staircases in the Peristylium. The occupants of the military school relied on the use of teleporters to get around the huge campus. The sensation of being teleported around by magic was foreign and unpleasant. Emina had shown her how to work the damn thing but it was still confusing. Magic back on Earth was practiced by a people who followed a certain religious order and it was labeled as "The Craft".

 

It was invisible and it wasn't flashy. Magic in the world of Oriense was different. It was flashy and it certainly did not follow a three fold law. Not much anyways.

 

The occupants of that world live with it every waking day. Cienna told herself that she would never ever get used to being 'beamed' around from place to place in the peristylium.

 

Her dormitory was nested amongst the Elite class' sector for the time being. Cienna suspect that it was so that the icy blade of death and Hanaharu could keep close tabs on her.

 

If there was one thing Cienna learned about class zero in the flesh was that they weren't at all nice people. They were arrogant, high and mighty bastards, taking on an attitude problem similar to their intimidating instructor. Trust and companionship was something Cienna had to earn from the messiahs she was going to be bunking in with.

 

* * *

**\- Messiahs -**

If there was one thing Cienna learned about class zero in the flesh was that they weren't all nice people and Cienna had suspected that it was due to the vast difference in their blood.

 

Cienna was the girl who fell from the sky; a mere human.

 

Class Zero was made up of Gods chosen to fulfill a prophecy.

 

Cienna belonged to Earth and her destiny was confined to a life of work in a cube farm, bills, possibly marriage, money and the haunting prospect of having to tide over enough cash for her retirement.

 

Class Zero's destiny was complex. They were Gods. When their human body expired, they would return back to Etro's realm and there would be a throne for each of them. They would spend the rest of eternity gazing at how pathetic humanity had become.

 

Ace was an extremely deceiving wolf in sheep's clothing. He was adorable, Cienna would admit. He would often put on the most adorable expression while playing a childish game of patty cake with Deuce. As the leader of the class, Ace was the first to greet the 'new girl' in their common room.

 

"Hello." Ace spoke in old Concordian. To Cienna, it was Japanese, a language she was semi proficient with at the very least.

 

"Hello." Cienna replied with a nervous smile. "You must be Ace."

 

"Indeed." Ace acknowledged. "Pleased to have you here with us."

 

An unmistakably amused snort rose from the spot near the fireplace. A girl with scraggly silver hair of some sort had her head buried in a book. Cienna could sense the first sign of hostility coming from the scythe wielder and her partner in crime, another silver haired girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to Cienna's roommate's favourite pink haired Final Fantasy character.

 

The whip wielder, Seven.

 

Seven was a charming bastard but if there was one thing Sice hated, was Cienna being anywhere near her property. Seven was a property of Sice. Sice had made it clear to Cienna that if she were to toe out of the line, she wouldn't hesitate to reward her with a befitting death.

 

Machina was cautious of Cienna. It was his trait to govern and understand the feeling of fear. He avoided Cienna. He was fearful of being carted away to another life, another world, another possibility. To Kunigiri, she was a paradox.

 

Rem Tokimiya adored Cienna to the point of uneasy obsession. The Goddess of love was fascinated by Cienna's life, her misfortunes, the line of lovers whom she had been betrayed by and the vow never to fall in love again.

 

Cienna swore there was a look akin to a murderer's glee for blood in Tokimiya's eyes after summarizing her tale to her.

 

Jack couldn't careless if she lived or die. He was usually busy strumming his guitar somewhere. King and Queen sincerely acknowledged Cienna like a pair of scheming politicians. Trey would speak to her but Cienna couldn't help detect a trace of disgust that such a Common speaking damsel had earned the attention of their glorious commander.

 

Nine would flirt with her. He wanted to make love to her just so that he could witness the wrath of the flute wielder. The part Concordian bard in their team was often the most deceiving out of their lot.

 

Eight was totally neutral to the new girl. He didn't hate her but he didn't adore her either. He was just spoiled for a good fight and Cienna couldn't offer that to him. King was eager to see how much pressure can this girl take in before she would snap from the sheer mental pressure. He was looking forward to her suicide.

 

Queen didn't like people who were emotional in their judgements and thoughts. There was no utter shard of intelligence in the way this woman's field of logics when it came to magic or battle.

 

Cater simply smiled cheerfully. She couldn't wait to lock this girl up in the artillery closet.

 

Cinque simply loved Cienna only as a toy but she found that the girl was too easy to break.

 

Class Zero were Gods. And like Gods, they were free to fool around with human lives.

 

* * *

**\- Cards & scythe -**

"Can you believe it?!" The scythe wielder released another vortex towards the general direction of the black board. "They think that we're responsible for that bitch's arrival into this world!"

 

Eight calmly dodged the spinning black hole as it narrowly missed him. He could smell the sterile scent of an era of steel and technology beckon from within it's murky vortex of fallen stars. Sice had always governed over the world of the future when she was in her seat of power in the unseen world.

 

"But think about it." Deuce pondered. "The sooner we send her back, the sooner her suffering can end."

 

"I can always carve a bullet with her name on it." Cater leaned against her seat. "I can end her suffering really fast. She has been a walking disaster ever since she fell into this party a week ago. That and I think she really has the hots for our teacher, no?"

 

"Ahh..." Nine laughed. "Nothing more then an extra job to do when you are in the middle of a fucking war, oy."

 

Jack shrugged. "Just get her back home. If she can pop in here, surely she can pop back out with no problem at all."

 

"It's not that easy." Seven noted down. "She might have to stay here with us for a month or even a year."

 

Understanding shone through her eyes. "She didn't ask for this. Let's all show a bit more empathy."

 

"Tinkerbell will show her some fucking empathy." Sice roared, alarming Ace and Queen who just had to enter the classroom at that very moment.

 

"What is it, Sice?" The class president crossed her arms. "You should really learn how to control your anger."

 

"My anger? Oh no, this is hate. Not anger." Sice smirked.

 

Ace blinked. "...Is it about that woman?"

 

Sice grinned wildly, spreading her arms out towards their leader. "Why, you've finally grown a bit more intelligent, taichou."

 

"And your tongue has certainly grown a bit too sharp." Ace calmly remarked, strutting to his seat. "In any case, I do not harbor any forms of hate towards that woman. I think her as someone-"

 

"You are just being bias because she reminds you of your mother." Sice's comment, sliced through gravity.

 

Ace's form was still. There was a vague memory of him attempting to rescue someone who had always looked at him as a son. Of course, he was not human. He was a creature to be feared, hatred and he was raised up with only one woman whom he could refer to as a mother. Even so, Sice's words were enough to stir a certain hidden blood lust deep within his synthetic soul.

 

Sice felt a thin graze of blood run down her cheek and she embraced it's metallic tang when it dripped upon her tongue.

 

It was easy to rile Sice up into a fight. The crazed young lady dragged her weapon against the carpet, tearing through it's lush fibers with it's sharp edge. As she kicked her weapon up, she sent bits of red fabric strands flying slightly over her, giving her classmates the illusion of blood tainted sand.

 

Very little words were exchanged as the card wielder clashed against the vulgar scythe wielder.

 

Ace gritted his teeth as he teleported and attempted to gut Sice in the stomach with a charged up ruinaga. Sice laughed, it was difficult to encourage Ace to put up a good fight. The peacemaker was not a blood thirsty boy by nature. Therefore, Sice would welcome any opportunities to beat the pretty boy up.

 

Machina cowered slightly in his seat. He wanted to help but like his classmates, they knew that if Sice didn't vent her anger out, someone would be on the unfortunate receiving end and her rage would be ten fold.

 

Ace's ruinaga made contact with what he thought was Sice's favourite weapon, Tinkerbell.

 

Blood. Sice was laughing.

 

Ginger hair.

 

Cienna kneeled over. Her next battle would be against the grim reaper.

 

"How foolish of you." Sice's words were very distant.

 

All was black and peaceful once again.

 

* * *

**xXx**

 

They were arguing again.

Kurasame was at the losing end. Sometimes, he felt like a criminal and the woman in front of him was the cop. Everything and anything he said could be wielded against him effectively.

 

It was not as if the fearsome instructor was unable to win the battle of words against the woman before him. It was simply because he knew it was a battle worth fleeing.

It wasn't because he didn't love her.

 

Perhaps it's because he simply wasn't worth her time. He was the unwilling soldier and she was a woman who was simply haunted by the crossroads before her.

The instructor held his tongue back as the younger woman before him presented him with not one, but a handful of her hair.

She'd cut it off with his sword before running out of the penthouse, crying.

 

He supposed, he could chase after her, whisper sweet nothings and meaningless apologies into her ear.

He could drown himself with a bottle of wine to rid his tongue free of the medicine's taste but towards the end of the day, the reality of the situation stood before him, as grim as solar rays upon the surface of Mercury; they were both using each other for their own needs.

 

The soldier was at lost on what could've been and what ifs. He attempted to picture the situation as a war game.

Cienna was the sniper, crouched behind a hidden spot, continously loading bullets towards his direction. She wasn't doing a good job at sniping him, it was as if she was unsure if she should've killed him when she got the chance to do so or if she should've just given him a minute to abandon base.

Cienna wanted him but Kurasame had no idea how far her desire went. Was it as endless as the galaxy that Sice always dreamed of?

 

Perhaps it was only as shallow as the riverbed Kurasame had envisioned it to be.

He was foolish enough to replace Cienna for Miwa but he knew that no amount of apologies could set her heart at ease. He had screwed up completely and she wasn't the first.

Out of the corner of his eyes, the color of toxic and hate, the icy blade of death saw her dissapear beyond the horizon, just like Miwa.

 

He wanted to apologize, to tell her that he was sorry.

He wanted to tell her the truth. He loved her from the bottom of his waste filled heart.

Only because she was just like Miwa.

 

And that was the truth he was never able to bring himself to admit even as the wind took Cienna back home, home to where she rightfully belonged to. 


End file.
